


Gossip Loves Company

by BastardSonOfDay (Diana_Raven)



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Crack, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Gossip Buddies, In Universe (Sorta), No editing we die like mne, an unstoppable pair, begone from my drafts!, begone!, cuz she knew the raw power would be too much for us, i know it may seem like im using the word girl as an insult, im not, its just, nesta and lucien gossip buddies, thats the line and im not changing it cuz im tired and want to post this, we were robbed!!! sjm robbed us of their friendship!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 06:02:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16613291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diana_Raven/pseuds/BastardSonOfDay
Summary: Nesta and Lucien have one shared love: Gossip.





	Gossip Loves Company

**Author's Note:**

> WE WERE ROBBED I SAY!
> 
> A 3 month old anon prompt from tumblr.... sorry. 
> 
> Unbetaed or edited

Nesta stirred her tea slowly, taking in the world around her. She was glad Spring had come, not that Nesta would admit it but seasonal depression got the best of even her sometimes. Sometimes all Nesta really needed was sun. And so, Elain had dragged her over to the House of Wind for some Bonding Time, and while Elain weeded and tended to her garden, Nesta sat in the shade nearby and drank her tea (the leaves grown by Elain).

The day was warm but not hot, and the air cool but not chilly. Nesta sipped her mint tea, letting herself be consumed by the smell and the chirps of the birds around her.

And of course, anything Nesta had been enjoying had to be snatched away from her right when she was getting used to it. Lucien Vanserra, that bastard, strode over to the garden table she sat at, and sat in the white ornate chair beside her. He was rebraiding his hair over his left shoulder absently.

“What are you doing here?” Nesta asked icily.

Lucien raised an eyebrow and stretched. The Night Court style clothes he wore fit him nicely, billowing around his legs. The shirt was tight and snug, outlining his form spectacularly. Nesta could hate Lucien all she wanted, but she couldn’t argue with his fashion scene--of all the people here, she thought, he definitely had the best. She knew his tailored clothes came from an artisan in the city, though she had no clue who they were. Not, of course, that she cared. She wouldn’t patronize an artist that served him, never.

“It’s a nice day.” He said in answer. “Tea time already?”

“Slightly past.” Nesta responded, continuing to sip her tea.

Lucien stood, stretching his arms. “I’ve been sequestered up in Azriel’s room all yesterday, last night, and this morning. It’s nice to smell the air.”

Nesta stopped herself from letting her interest show on her face. The Spymaster never kept someone in his offices for so long without something important to discuss with them. Nesta herself had talked only been in Azriel’s office for a few hours when they’d talked about the goings-on in the Mortal Realms and the juicy information Nesta had acquired on their leaders while on her latest trip. But a whole day?

“What did the two of you talk about?”

"Oh you know... Court gossip, stupid stuff."

Nesta was sure there was more to their conversation than that. "Oh really?" She said in a way that was as uninterested as she could possibly manage.

"Mmhm. I'm sure it wouldn't interest you."

"For once, Vanserra, it seems you're right."

Lucien took a tea biscuit from Nesta's plate without asking. And Nesta, understanding this gesture for what it was had to decide between two choices: either insulting Lucien and being robbed of any further slightly civil conversation. Or... keeping quiet. Letting the bastard son of day have his moment, and maybe... maybe she would find out what exactly had interested Azriel so.

Nesta chose the latter option, and was efficiently rewarded. "If you aren't interested," Lucien began, "then it must irritate you to no end listening to me talk about it. So, you'll have to get the long version of the story, now won't you."

Nesta ignored the tug at her stoic lips, begging them to quirk a smile at his forehanded insult.

"But first, I will need something to drink. It's going to be a long story." He sat up slightly, and poured himself a glass of lemonade which had been brought out for Elain when she had tired some. After a long slow sip of lemonade, Lucien began his story.

What had happened was a butterfly effect of gossip, rampaging through all Courts over the past seven months, coming to a head yesterday, hence the emergency meeting. The tale, debaucherous and convoluted, ended with quite a lot of dirt on everyone involved, except--it seemed--Lucien Vanserra. However, the amount of blackmail ammunition it gave Azriel and Rhysand, as well as the more... conspiratory parts (a planned up-coming coups and accidents) were, well, quite frankly game-changing.

Lucien finished. Neither he nor Nesta had moved from their positions other than to mildly sip what they had in their hands (or eat from Nesta plate, as the case was for Lucien), and stir and refill their glasses.

"That was absolutely torturous." Nesta told him when he finished his story.

"As I hoped it might be." Lucien responded cheerfully.

Lucien finished his snack. Stood again and stretched. "Well, I'd better get back. Azriel wants to connive, and he knows I'm just the right person to do that with." Lucien glanced up at the sun and blew it a kiss. "Goodbye, sweet sunshine! I'll never see you again if he gets his way."

Nesta didn't even turn to watch him walk away.

* * *

Nesta was steaming. Absolutely furious. The-the nerve of those Human Queens! The absolute utter-

"What crawled up your ass?"

Lucien Vanserra. Just what Nesta needed. "Why do you care?" Nesta hissed.

A funny stone-like look came over Lucien's face. "I don't."

Of course he doesn't, Nesta told herself. "Then get lost!"

"Oh no. If something has you this fired up, I just have to know what it is." Lucien responded, checking his nails for dirt and leaning against the wall.

"You want to know?" Nesta stalked up to Lucien.

"If it pissed you off this much? Hell yeah."

"You really want to know?" Nesta snarled. She stood right in front of his face. He could feel the huffs of anger from her nose.

"Is there ever any gossip that I don't?"

Nesta grabbed Lucien by the nose and shoved him onto the couch. Surprised, but not letting himself show it, Lucien let her sit next to him and then gracefully drop her feet into his lap, her head on the arm of the sofa. "Then hang on to your tits."

Lucien saw the choice she had granted him with, rubbing her feet--a gesture of intimacy (not specifically romantic, but rather any type), one that would show that he was listening and on her side--or not rubbing her feet and pushing them off--likely to get her to sit up in a huff and stride away so he would never hear the juicy tittle-tattle she was about to sprout. Lucien chose the former.

"It all begins at Starfall when we invited all the important leaders of the world and Prythian over for that goodwill gesture thing--which I still think is stupid mind you, when-"

* * *

"Lucien! Come! Join us!" Feyre cried, grabbing his arm.

"Really girls, I'm flattered. And as much as I'd rather stay here with you, the boys will wonder where their keys have gotten to." Lucien responded gently.

Elain, tipsy and blissfully letting Mor comb her fingers through her hair, added. "Come on! It'll be fun! Everyone here kinda likes you anyway. Plus, you always have the best gossip."

"Nesta doesn't."

"She's right." Feyre agreed.

"C'mon, Lucien." Amren hummed as she tried to paint Vassa's toes without getting any on her skin. "Don't lie to us and say you'd rather have a boys' night out than a girls'. I'm not even into all this stuff, but getting drunk while doing makeovers beats getting drunk and dancing with strangers so you can ignore your loneliness without your significant other and beat your nasty little feelings of ineptitude into submission."

Lucien glanced at Nesta, who had remained silent during this entire conversation. Nesta was curled up on the mattress the girls would sleep on, her back resting against the sofa. She held a steaming cup of cocoa (from the Summer Jungles) between her delicately manicured fingers, curling her toes slightly in the blankets.

Nesta bit the inside of her lip and between the two of them there was a silence. Decisions to be made on both parts. A game to be played where neither new quite what the next step was. One false move and their entire, meticulously crafted relationship would come tumbling down around them.

"After all," Nesta said, adding bite into her voice, "the more girls, the merrier."

"Only if you promise to paint my toes, Nesta. Then I can do yours!"

* * *

Lucien finally made a break for it and left Azriel alone with his plans and secrets. He came out to the hot spring air and took a deep breath of freedom. Elain was gardening. Feyre was painting. So finding Nesta there with a pot of tea was not unusual, but finding a teacup, already filled and steaming, set out for him was.

Lucien sat in the ornate white wicker chair next to her. He sniffed daintily at his teacup and then took a sip.

There was a moment of silence, where neither knew what exactly to say. Then, Lucien hesitantly (not that he'd let it show in his voice) said. "Lady Adrienne from Winter is sleeping with the guard, Brok from Spring."

For a second, Lucien wondered if he had gone too far. If all this slow bonding they'd had was a fluke. If he'd screwed it up, irrecoverably.

"Her husband is sleeping with at jester from Dawn, still hasn't come out for some reason though."

"She's got the money. He doesn't want to lose anything sparkly, you know how it is."

There was a snort. Then, "And they think they're being slick."

"They should as Apollos Pluxous from Day for advice. He's been cheating on his wife for years with his mate--Donnos Berateli."

"The same Donnos Berateli that has been secretly corresponding with his new lover, The Swan? Also know as Lady Pluxous?"

Both sipped their teas, hid their smiles, and thus, life went on.


End file.
